Six Feet Under
by InsideOutlaw
Summary: Some serious reflection leads to some inappropriate humor. Written as a challenge story.


"Quit your bellyachin', you ain't gonna make me change my mind!" snapped Kid Curry as he reined his horse up outside of the cemetery fence. He dismounted his gelding and, without looking up at his dark-haired partner, tied the reins to one of the iron pickets. Leaving Heyes astride, Curry walked around to the rusted gate and opened it as far as it would go, slipping inside. He quickly saw the older graves were nearer to the gate and strode towards the newer headstones he saw at the back of the graveyard. The disrupted mounds of earth hadn't settled on several plots and he started with those. It wasn't but a moment before he found what he was looking for: Danny Bilson's final resting place. He stared at the plain, wooden cross that simply stated the man's name and the date he'd died. Not that the Kid would ever forget that day.

Heyes walked up and stopped next to his partner. "Okay, we've seen it. Can we go now?"

"Give me a minute."

Heyes wandered up and down the row contemplating the inscriptions, or lack thereof, on the crude headstones and crosses. A light wind blew out of the south and the sun shone brightly through the cloudy, blue sky. Occasionally, he glanced back at where his partner stood until he finally decided this had gone on too long and walked back to Bilson's grave.

The Kid still wore a grim expression and stared sightlessly at the tangle of weeds and brambles that covered the slightly humped ground. An errant gust of wind blew dead leaves across Curry's feet. Heyes had objected to the whole idea of this visit. He'd argued until he was blue in the face but the Kid had made up his mind and refused to be swayed. Not even the risk of being spotted and recognized would prevent him from visiting Bilson.

Heyes remembered how long the Kid had worn that awful mustache and carried a chip on his shoulder after the shootout. Apparently, he was still hurting over it all. Feeling contrite for not sympathizing, Heyes dropped a hand on his partner's shoulder and squeezed tightly. "There wasn't anything else you could've done, Kid. Bilson forced your play."

Roused from his musings, Curry glanced sideways at Heyes. "You think that's what this is all about? I regret killin' Danny?" He smiled. "If he rose up outta that hole he's in, I'd be glad to kill him all over again. If ever a man had needed killin', it was Bilson."

Heyes was taken aback by the statement and was uncertain where this was going. "So why'd you have to come?"

"I was never upset he died, Heyes. What ate at me was that I felt justified in takin' his life."

"Justified?"

"Yep, and that made me wonder about me. What gave me the right to judge him and execute him?"

"You didn't execute him, Kid. He drew on you. You told me yourself he was too fast. So fast you couldn't risk not shooting to kill."

"That's true," nodded Curry, "but I also wanted to kill him and that's what bothered me. It was Bilson who forced me to see myself as a killer."

"You're no killer…"

"I killed him. Simple as that. I am a killer, Heyes, and none of your sweet-talkin's gonna change that."

"Well you don't take pleasure in it. Bilson did." Heyes looked out across the small valley below them. The sun had dimmed and the clouds dominated the vista. There was a storm coming. His gaze shifted to the small town nestled in the central meadow. It was the same as he remembered, but he and the Kid had changed. "So why'd you come?"

"To see if I felt any different now that some time's passed."

"Do you?"

"I don't know. I never saw him laid to rest. We just rode out of town as quick as we could. For a long time, it was as though it never happened. It seemed like a dream. No, more like a nightmare. I thought maybe if I saw him like this, saw his grave, it might change things for me," said Curry, shrugging. "It was just a shot in the dark."

"Naw, it was daylight."

Confused, Curry turned to Heyes. "What?"

"You said a shot in the dark, but it was a shot in the day." Heyes chuckled. "I don't feel bad about Bilson either. He wanted to own the whole town and he was willing to do anything to get it, including killing whoever stood in his way. Well, he bought the farm all right, but at least he was lucky enough to die with his boots on."

The Kid grinned. "You really wanna know what I was thinkin'? I was thinkin' it was kinda ironic that here Bilson was supposedly pushin' up daisies and all that was growin' was weeds. Kinda fittin', isn't it?"

Heyes laughed. "My guess is he met his maker and there ain't no garden in Hell." A cloud blotted out the sun and the chilly shadow it cast caused Heyes to look up. A small drop of rain fell on his face.

"Well, I ain't about to dance on his grave, but I'm still not sorry he bit the dust," said Curry.

"Danny had no idea he was cashing in his chips when he called you out. He wasn't planning to give up the ghost; he probably figured it'd be you to hop on the last rattler."

"Yep. And here he lies, dead as a doornail, takin' a dirt nap." Rain started to pelt down on them. The Kid took one last look at the grave and then turned his back on it. Heyes fell into step next to him and they hurried to their horses as the rain intensified. Untying the animals, they quickly swung into their saddles and galloped towards the forest's edge. Once under the shelter of the trees, they slowed to a jog.

"Heyes, do you think Bilson knew he was kickin' the bucket?"

"Naw. He had no idea it was lights out, but one thing I know for sure…"

"What?"

"He's feeling under the weather right about now."


End file.
